


Just a slightly odd Christmas

by Heavensbee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 01:37:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4727915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavensbee/pseuds/Heavensbee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“James, do you still fancy me?” He turned back to her, yet again, and frowned. This time she was the one to walk up close to him and she stared at him, chewing on her lip, nervous for what the answer might be. “Or… did you ever?” she muttered, quite unsure. She looked at her toes again. What if he had never actually fallen in love with her? What if she was just another pretty girl he’d like to be his victory trophy? “Fancy me?” The last words were said in a sigh, a loud exhale that sounded almost desperate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a slightly odd Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this quite a while ago. It was intended for a Marauders story I was writing a while ago, but I never really had the motivation to actually finished it. It didn't get longer than a chapter or two. :'D I apologize in advance for any grammatical or spelling errors that might occur. English is my fourth language. Or rather third. Anyways, I do not know every single secret of the English language, so yeah. (: Some of this was inspired by gifsets on Tumblr, so all rights go to the people who came up with it.
> 
> I obviously do not own the world of Harry Potter or any of the characters within it. All full rights belong to the amazing Joanne Rowling. (: Enjoy!

Lily rubbed her eyes and closed the book she had been reading for the past three hours. Her eyes wandered off to the clock on the wall, but she couldn’t quite focus on the numbers the hands were pointing at.

                Footsteps made her jump and she got up from the couch. Darkness was falling in the Gryffindor common room, the fire existed out of nothing more than faintly glowing charcoal.

                “Evans!” said a surprised voice. Lily couldn’t help but yawn and she turned around to walk up the stairs, when her gaze crossed a pair of hazel ones that reflected the glowing firelight brilliantly. Kind eyes, but they looked a little troubled.

                “Oh… James,” she muttered silently. “What are you doing up at this hour?” A crooked smile formed itself on James’s lips, one corner of his mouth lifting. A handsome smile filled with that slight amount of mock, of arrogance, that always made her scowl. As did she now.

                “I could ask you the same question,” he answered, making her scowl deepen. He moved in a little bit and when he realised she wouldn’t answer because she was either too tired to realise it wasn’t rhetorical, or because she wanted him to answer first, he pointed outside the window. Night had fallen, but the moon presented its reflected sunlight to the earth, making it bathe in a silvery white light. It produced creeping shadows, but it was also beautiful. A full moon, it was, and Lily understood.

                “Oh, right… Remus.” She felt a tad awkward under James gaze; an intense stare that, she noted again, looked slightly worried. He walked up to her, standing closer than she might have wanted, but for some reason she found herself paralysed. A sadness – no, not sadness, similar, but she couldn’t quite place it – had crept up inside her and she finally looked up to him, into his hazel eyes which were examining her face. She couldn’t help but notice how close they were standing; their hands inches apart, their noses almost touching. She could feel his warm breath touching her skin and she closed her eyes, breathing him in slowly.

                “Lily, is something going on?” She opened her eyes again, but looked past him and shook her head, realising something. She realised where exactly she was standing and looked up.

                “No, I’m fine.” It was ridiculous, really. “Just a slightly odd Christmas…” James smiled. There it was again; the intimacy, the tugging desire she felt, longing. Longing for… for him? No, it couldn’t be. Lily bit her lip as he scratched the back of his head. He leaned in closer and she held her breath. Did he notice?

                But he only walked past her and she confusedly ran a hand through her hair. He held his pace and she just stood, waiting expectantly.

                “Yeah, odd… I guess.” He bowed his head a little and turned around again. He now noticed, too, she saw. His eyes were fixated on a spot a couple of centimetres above her head.

                “Mistletoe.” He exhaled, producing the word ever so silent, as if they hadn’t even been said at all. “Strange tradition, isn’t it?” He chuckled and she giggled awkwardly as well. “I, I guess I should be going.” Lily took a deep breath and all of a sudden her voice returned. She wished to say goodnight, but instead blurted out something completely different.

                “James, do you still fancy me?” He turned back to her, yet again, and frowned. This time she was the one to walk up close to him and she stared at him, chewing on her lip, nervous for what the answer might be. “Or… did you ever?” she muttered, quite unsure. She looked at her toes again. What if he had never actually fallen in love with her? What if she was just another pretty girl he’d like to be his victory trophy? “Fancy me?” The last words were said in a sigh, a loud exhale that sounded almost desperate.

                “That depends,” whispered James. His voice sounded hoarse and as she looked up again, she saw that he was standing incredibly close to her, again. She couldn’t handle this. It felt like a horrible dance of reaching out and falling away; him closing in and her closing off and when she admitted something to herself, it felt like he didn’t care about her at all. Like he never had, never would. Everything he had ever said was just empty talk, she knew it had to be.

                “Depends on what?” she said, feeling quite small.

                “What you want the answer to be.” A shiver went down her spine as she felt how he lay a finger underneath her chin and made her look up to him. There was no smile, but no frown either. Just his eyes, staring back at her. Hazel eyes, kind eyes, beautiful and so intense it made her heart hammer against her chest. His hand dropped to his side and for a moment she expected him to just walk away. She couldn’t produce a sound, but did he expect her to answer his question? Had it even been a question? Lily felt so confused; she had no idea what was going on with her. She hadn’t touched any alcohol this evening, it was probably just her fatigue, wasn’t it?

                “Weird tradition isn’t it?” His silent, warm, comforting voice made her feel like she was being soaked in icy cold water and she found herself breathless yet again.

                “Mistletoe,” she whispered. And then they leaned into one another; both at the same time. Their lips met in an embrace they both thought should have occurred way before this moment. It was a slight, lingering touch, it barely even qualified as a kiss, but Lily Evans closed her eyes and she never wanted him to let go. As he did, let go, she tugged his hand, placing it on the small of her back. He trailed her spine upwards and gently touched her cheek. It was over way too soon, Lily was still holding up one hand, reaching for him, longing to touch that messy hair that always drove her crazy.

                But she couldn’t touch him. She stood, frozen, with her eyes still closed to enjoy every single second of this moment, the feeling of his body, his hands, his lips that matched hers so perfectly. And Lily, Lily didn’t doubt for a second that this wasn’t the truth. They both just stood there, eyes closed, noses just barely touching, their fingers intertwined. They enjoyed each other’s presence, not feeling the need to talk or explain themselves. It was a moment neither of them would have dreamed of, neither of them might have even wanted, but they enjoyed each split second of it.

                “We can have the greatest love story in history, Lily Evans.” It was a whisper to her lips and she felt how he let go of her hand, not wanting it; not wanting him to leave. If only they could stand here forever. But he brushed aside a lost strand of fiery red hair and then she could no longer sense him. He was gone; like the breath he had stolen from her.

 


End file.
